Seating Changes

The cogs of time
are creaking to life.
The time has come for me to shoulder my
responsibility and become a man.
No, it hasn't.
It is time to shut up.
It's time for everyone to shut up.
Not time to think; thinking is an eternal funnel.
Time to grind the stones;
harvest the aeons of work.
The bounties of our travels,
Endless musty rooms of crystals and trinkets
are pulverized by the hulls
of twisted, shapeless juggernauts.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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